


Reflections in Our Broken Selves

by Nihonkikuasa211



Category: Code Black (TV)
Genre: Angst, Family, Friendship, Gen, Goodbyes, Mention of Past Neal Hudson/Christa Lorenson, Platonic Relationships, Tag to 1x14
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-08-09 06:21:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7790026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nihonkikuasa211/pseuds/Nihonkikuasa211
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leanne and Neal have a conversation before he leaves Angels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reflections in Our Broken Selves

**Author's Note:**

> I ignored the news about season two for a long time. In fact, I pretended it didn't exist. I had to write this though. It wasn't as painful as I expected it would be.

_Reflections in Our Broken Selves_

              “You’re leaving.”

              It wasn’t a question. The situation seemed similar to a memory before. Leanne could still remember the heaviness of Neal’s gaze, of how the younger doctor was trying to piece together why his mentor was leaving a place that she had taught him to love. Back then, Leanne had understood that Neal was relieved for her in his own way. His arms around her as they sat on the empty gurney echoed in her mind. The laughter that they had. Now Neal was standing in front of her, his eyes telling her all that she needed to know.

              “I am. I…” The Englishman cleared his throat and looked at her with his dark brown eyes. “I am not going to run anymore.”

              “So you decided to apply to a surgeon positon in the cold Northeast,” Leanne stated with a faint smirk. To her relief, the dark surgeon smiled a little and chuckled.

              “It reminds me of home,” he stated. The accent that had faded throughout his years here suddenly seemed more present. “I know you don’t understand the beauty of the snow or the rain, but…it’s good in its own way.” Suddenly his expression turned into one similar to a child’s. “The soft velvety snow and the comforting sound and the feel of the rain…I had missed that,” he stated somewhat wistfully, “in my years in Angels.

              Leanne looked at him then, a flash of memory interrupting her sight at the memory of when she had first met him. A young boy from England, who was good with his hands but no desire to face what he was running from. He was so young then, and so lost in his own way. She swallowed, not one to openly acknowledge her love for Neal…but this time she would make an expectation.

              “I never thanked for you what you did for me after the accident,” the dark-haired attending stated quietly. She was aware of Neal watching her, his face morphing into understanding as she continued to speak. “You were right so many times and I…didn’t want to believe it.” A smile faded across her features as Leanne remembered of how she had once ignored the then resident for telling her to go home and truly heal from her family’s deaths. “I wasn’t the only one running away, Neal.”

              “Leanne,” Neal tried to say.

              “And so I will do what you did for me,” she continued as if she had not heard him. “Are you okay?”

              Neal knew better than to lie to her. His eyes darkened, and he self-consciously licked his lips. “I will be,” A sigh escaped from his lips, and the female attending could see her friend trying in vain to not allow his sadness to show. “It still hurts sometimes, when I saw her in the ER, and not truly able to say anything. I tried to apologize, but Christa…said it was okay when it was…” Neal opened his mouth to speak, but his mouth remained still.

              “I know it’s none of my business,” Leanne stated, “but Dr. Adams had no right to act that way with you, Neal.” The male looked surprised, and his eyes widened further at the professional tone she had used to refer to Grace. During the first year of their residency, Leanne had referred them all by their title, but usually when they had gained her respect or had bonded with them did she call them by their names. “I stopped respecting her when she left you Neal, heartbroken and more miserable than your first residency. Then, she lost all the respect I still had for her when I could see that she still thought that you still were together.” Leanne paused and spoke almost tenderly to him.

              “Your love for Christa is still there, which is why you are going to the same hospital where she is a second-year resident there, isn’t it?”

              “Yeah.” Leanne pretended to not notice of how Neal touched his nape self-consciously and of how his voice hitched. His eyes moved over to Leanne’s, and smiled.

              “Invite me to the wedding.” Before Neal could even say a word, Leanne was fully embracing him. Her chin barely reached his chest, but her arms were around him and she hoped that she conveyed her warmth to him.

              “To the very best of times, Neal Hudson,” Leanne murmured thickly. She was grateful when Neal didn’t mention the wetness on her cheeks. Instead, the attending beamed at her and thanked her for everything that she had done for him.

              She could still feel the emptiness of his absence as the boy who she had known as Neal waved good-bye.

              “What are you looking at, Daddy?”

              Leanne jumped as her fingers left the photograph she was touching. She turned and gave a wicked smile at the sight of her friend.

              “I’m looking at the inside of your heart, Mama.” The salt-an-pepper Hispanic chuckled slightly, moving closer to Leanne as she made no attempt to hide that photo. “I have to say, that is the least barbed insult you have ever said, Daddy. You were so blue that I feared that you –” His words stopped at the sight of the single photo. A concerned eye tried to look at her, but Leanne was having none of it.

              In her hands was a picture of Neal and her family. A soft, barely visible smile caressed her face as she stared at the frozen and precious faces in the photo. Her son and daughter were smiling at the camera, their arms around a younger Neal Hudson as he was wearing his scrubs. The smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. He had still been new, unused to the ER and of the people around him. Her husband had once said that someday he would become a great doctor, and Leanne had not quite believed him. She had honestly thought that the young man would fail the program, but he had stayed. Leanne inwardly whispered her husband’s name, a name that she did still want to think about with the bed that was too cold, and too big for her empty heart.

              _“I am not going to run anymore.”_

“Neal isn’t running away anymore,” Leanne stated with a strength that she forgotten she had possessed. “And nor am I.”


End file.
